What IS that ticking noise?

Let me reiterate this fact for those of you not in in the know -- I really don't have a big desire to have children. This is not terribly surprising, because it comes up frequently. Like when I'm out shopping and there is a kid in the store that lets loose one of those ear-wrenching, spine-gripping, blood-curdling screams that causes ALL of the hair on your entire body to stand on end -- even at places you didn't know you HAD hair. Yeah. Like that. I call those screams "birth control." Every time I hear that I just know that I'm never going to have kids.

Or when someone shares a particularly gruesome aspect of pregnancy or giving birth, that makes me realize they're not the only ones about to be suffering from morning sickness.

Or when I think about the awesome amount of responsibility and then look at myself and realize that I'm not even capable of washing the dishes that are in the sink on a daily basis.

I'm not ready, I have no strong desires, the list goes on.

However. I have a couple of friends who have little kids, two with little girls, and they will occasionally forward pictures to me of the girls doing something incredibly adorable and looking at their moms and dads with those big round adoring eyes and that's when I think -- uh oh. THOSE images are so strong that all of my attempts to quelch them are often rebuked. I'll try to think about all of the other stuff and it's just not happening.

So, I'll have to do something DIRTY. I won't go into the gory details, but that will erase the images from my mind completely. No more baby dolls for YOU, Heather because you have been a bad bad girl!

I guess that's the funny side of it -- in order for me to get down and dirty, don't show me porn just make me have images of motherhood dance in my head and I'll get seriously dirty to get rid of them.

Even though I just recently turned 31, I didn't really realize I was starting to get old and settled until tonight.

Plan was for me to hang out with HP2, and while we were hanging out Scott called and asked us to meet him out. I was interested, because let's face it I love to hang out with the man, but she wasn't really feeling going "out out." But, then when I got in the car to drive her home, she had a change of heart. So, we drove out to little place where he and his friends were doing karaoke and picked him up and then drove to another place...

The thing is that I'm just not that interested in the bar scene anymore. I have more fun laughing and joking in the car on the way to the bar than I ever seem to at the bar itself. There's just a whole lot of people having a whole lot to drink and trying to get laid. Not that there is ANYTHING wrong with that -- been there, done that, have the t-shirt to prove it. But, I don't miss it. There's never a time when I am sitting around on a Friday or Saturday nigth with Scott wishing I could be hanging out with a bar, doing the meet market flirtation dance. Ick. I enjoy going out once in a while, but the thought of that being a regular part of my routine again doesn't interest me at all.

Not sure why either, because I like to drink. And when I've got my mind to it, I'm pretty good at it, too. Maybe it's because I don't have big drinking social circle anymore or maybe because I'd just rather have quiet time at home with my baby or maybe it's both. I mean, I don't get my hackles up and fight against it if someone suggest going out -- I'm more than willing to roll. But, it's nothing like the times in my life when I felt like a social pariah if I didn't have plans for BOTH nights of the weekend and something to fill in Sunday too.

And now it's 2am and I'm still awake and that's just ridiculous!

Scout won't let me post any of her wedding pictures. I was going to add badly stick-drawn figures to replace the picture I posted, but I couldn't figure out how to do that.

Sigh. Think I'll go pout and whine about never getting my way...

Well, at least the man has a tux. That's ONE less thing to whine about! :-)

This is me and my darling hairdresser/friend/role model Lori. It is a testament to how much I adore her that I will post a picture of me looking THIS bad because she looks so good. 

Here's the thing... I don't think Ken and Colleen's wedding could have been more gorgeous or more perfect. It was just fabulous and sparkly and beautiful. I wrote an entire blog (in my little black book) about the whole wedding "drama" based on THEIR wedding. It was good stuff. Anyways, I was pretty jealous for a while afterwards because our wedding is not going to be this pretty. But, it will be fun (how can you go wrong with 2 margarita machines??) and at the end of the day, pretty or kookie or whatever -- we will still be married. And I still get to wear a big white dress. This is all that matters. :-) 

Such as Scott and Heather, practicing their enraptured gift-opening procedure. I liked the hats, but mainly because I was having SUPER weird hair night... 

It wasn't for DAYS after the party that Tony Kahlua even knew that other people were at this party. 

More from the Diary of Bridezilla

Copyright pending?

So, here's the deal. I have to make about 1000 decisions concerning the wedding and the minute details. I have varying degrees of input from all of my "sources." Some helpful (ie -- agree with me)and some not (ie -- don't agree with me). It's enough to make you lose your mind over the craziest stuff. Every time I think I tackle an issue, something else pops up to replace it... Isn't there some mythological creature who has several heads and one grows back to replace it when you cut it off?

And no, I'm not thinking about starfish.

It's very very frustrating. Particularly when it's over the simplest thing and I'm agonizing over it for days. You can't even begin to relate to the HOURS I spent pouring over invitations, agonizing over which ones I wanted -- only to feel all of the wind depleted from my sails when my parents pronounced them "weird." My mother wouldn't even help me fold them. I mean, that's messed up, right?

And now, it's table decorations. Frankly, I'm tired of thinking about them. I have MUCH more important things that need to be addressed, like I don't know -- the wedding ceremony hasn't been planned. But no, I've got to spend more hours agonizing over pillar candles versus floating candles versus tealights on sticks. I mean, is this really that serious? Did Princess Grace have to think about this stuff?

No, of course not -- she had "people" and she wasn't on a budget. Friggin' budget is the problem here. Every time I spend money I have to mentally run the numbers again. If you really want to help, throw some money on it and help it to go away.

And the worst part is that I really do want to let people help, but I don't want to give up control. If I gave up control, I'd be wearing a $800 wedding dress with a train and a sequined veil and be getting married at the officer's club -- and I'm not even marrying an officer.

It's just crazy. I have a whole stand-up routine worked out that I'm planning on performing in my wedding dress, so I can try to recoup some of the money.

Meanwhile, the Groom is coasting on his high horse because he went to get his tuxedo today so I can "get off of his back." That sure is a nice thing to say to someone who has about 1000 more things to take care of then just getting a tux, for the love of God. But, that always devolves back to "but I didn't want this thing, you did."

Which is true. How do you argue with that??

No, seriously -- how DO you argue with that, because I sure could use a comeback! :)

Off to drink -- the only thing that can save me from the craziness.

H.

The thing is that I really hate to shower. Especially on the weekends. It's not even that I'm a "dirty girl" in any sense of the world. (Well, maybe in one sense but that was in a former life..) It's because I'm a girly girl that I hate it. All of the rites and rituals and so forth that go along with taking a shower, I really hate it. I know that once I step in the shower, it's going to be a minimum of 30 minutes before I'm going to be available to the public again. Probably closer to 45.

Because once I get in the shower, I've got to wash and buff everything and usually shave a bunch of it too. It's ridiculous. Then when I'm out of the shower, I've got to moisturize and volumize and dry off. Got to do the drying part because otherwise my hair dries FUN-KEEE. Then, I've got to put a coat of war paint on so I can stand to look at myself in the mirror (otherwise I just feel like my pores are staring back and mocking me) and THEN I'm ready. That's just almost an hour of my life that I can't get back. Added up over a year, at 365 days in a year, that works out to be a little over 15 days!! That's two weeks of my life in my shower/post-shower ritual.

Sad. I'd love to write more about it, but I've got to go you know...

If I could save Blond in a bottle...

Many people have often said to me that they will always think of me as a blonde. This is usually said in a complimentary way, which seems odd to me. Not that I mind the ditziness often associated with blondeness, as frankly it really applies, but I just feel so boxed in. What about being a brunette? I bet I could be cute in that too.

I went through a period of some Goth red stuff and I got a lot of interesting reactions out of that. Usually -- wow, now there's a color you don't often find outside of Crayola. I have a friend who calls me Red to this day, which many people who have met me in my post auburn days really don't get.

But, still. If people think of me as a blonde, then I'm all about pleasing the people. But the problem is that it gets pretty expensive to keep funding the blonde and really keeping it blonde. I'm considering starting a campaign to collect money to Keep Heather Blonde or Save the Roots or something. (I'm not terribly creative when it comes to titles, note the title of the blog for pity's sake.) Would people contribute?

You say you've always thought of me as a blonde and in fact, prefer it that way?? Hmmm... Well, I accept cash, checks and money orders and am currently working out a deal with Visa. ("If you want to Keep Heather Blonde, the only card accepted is Visa.") But, perhaps Mastercard would be a good option thought. ("Visit to hair salon for highlights and a haircut: $100. Keeping Heather Blonde? Priceless.)

Just some thoughts out of my dizzy blonde head...

H.

Three guesses who was drunk and trying to look sober in this one... 

This is me and HP2 at my birthday. I think your head is perfectly normal sized, silly girl 

Houston, we have picture capability.

? 

Oh my Jesus God, Blogger just SO fucking cool. There's photo blogging now for F*ING FREE! IT IS SO ON!

Little Black Book

Many of you know about my little black book, and I may have even referenced it here. Who knows? I write so infrequently now that I don't even remember what's in here. It's a funny thing about my writing. In my life, it has always come in jumps and starts. I will go for periods of time where I just write all the time, get the fever to hear the pen scratching across the paper or have my fingers racing across the keyboard. And ideas and thoughts [sidebar: it feels like there is a difference between ideas and thoughts -- is there??] will just pour out of me. Can't seem to stop writing and it feels like interesting stuff. Frankly, as long as it's interesting to me, I have no further cares.

What was I talking about? Oh yes. My little black book. Since I'm not a guy in the 70's with lots of chest and gold chains, what I'm referring to is a miniature composition notebook that I carry around in my purse that I use whenever I need to jot down any kind of thought or idea. That's were I collected notes from the cruise, ostensibly so I could then transfer the information to this blog to pass on.

Only it just doesn't work like that for me. I'm not very good at multi-tasking and if I'm writing somewhere, then I'm not writing anywhere else. Which means my personal journal (which I have kept off and on since I was 8) hasn't had much added to it in quite some time. QUITE some time. And apparently, these little things that I'm adding to my little black book (lbb) are now keeping me from blogging.

Which is sad, because those entries are quite often just a stoned attempt to seem deep. Sometimes it is a little deep (for me, anyways) but mostly it's things I have to do, things I don't want to forget, phone numbers, etc.

The last lbb entry was this: meteors used to crash into the Earth ALL the time. They wiped out an entire species -- so why doesn't that happen anymore? Is there a scientific explanation or are just lucky?

I mean, what I know about science, meteors, and the extinction of dinosaurs you could fit on the head of pin and have room to put all the information I know about fixing cars AND computers. Scott had to explain to me that things do still crash into the Earth, just not as large and the universe was in more chaos than it is now and I really don't need to worry about meteors crashing into Earth. I'm still not sure if he really thinks I was worried about this or if he was just giving me a hard time. I believe my exact phrase was "aren't we DUE?" He went into this big explanation about time and how it relates in space and I didn't really hear much after that other than blah blah blah.

Anyways, that's one of the more noteworthy ones. An older one that really delved into the bizarre was this one.... "Time schism... Maybe when Scott and I broke up (in 2000), we really did break up and yet he still loved me so he re-created himself just to fuck with me...." I explain this to him and further expound that my other theory is "maybe he's just an actor hired to fuck with me". He asked "who would love you so much that they would pay someone to fuck with you?" I told him that was the funny thing -- I think it's him."

They don't call it Inside Heather's Head for nothing, folks. There is some crazy stuff in here!

These are actual thoughts from Heather's head, created by a professional lunatic. Do not attempt to re-create these same thoughts in your own head as the author is not responsible for what may happen to your head.

sleepy...

Wow, they changed the way things look behind the scenes again. I really have got to check this stuff out more option. Hmmm... Perhaps if I were writing more?

FYI

I am a golden god. Got an A in my Philosophy class.

Yay me!!

No further news -- it's Cinco de Mayo and I hit some margaritas! Yay!

Out from the funk


I just bet you greedy little vicarious bottom feeders really want to hear all about my vacation. And I would love to tell you about it. But it is late and I don't have the energy.

So, I may tell you about it or I may not. Suffice it to say -- I had a VERY relaxing time all in all (what DOES that mean?) and really hate the thought of going back to my daily life again. But, you gotta work so you can pay for the times you're not working and enjoy them more.

Or something.

So. Just gonna write about this little epiphany I had while indulging in one of my favorite bad habits (no, not that one -- not that one either) -- watching reality tv shows in MTV. In this case, The Real World. Couldn't tell you which one because the only one I ever really followed was Las Vegas. But I digress.

So, there's this girl with multiple piercings and tattooes and she's dating a guy that is MAD CRAZY about who looks like a male version of her, only in even more need of a sandwich. One of the other girls on the show does her little confession booth thing about how the only reason that the chick is even with this guy is because he makes her feel like she is the center of his universe, etc. I'm just wondering -- how is it a bad thing if someone you love makes you feel important??

And if anyone is left to comment please don't come blazing in here talking about how it CAN be a bad thing if the person puts too much emphasis on you and blah blah blah -- let's leave the melodrama to Scott's mom where it belongs!

Then I realized. No matter who you are with, no matter who you are there is always going to be someone, somewhere ("with a big nose, who knows") who will not like the person you are with. No matter who that person is and how happy you are with them. And if/when your relationship doesn't work out, those are the people that you will turn to because they are the ones who will make you feel justified that the relationship didn't work out. And if/when your relationship DOES work, well it is typically those people who get cut out. Look around you, can you think of a couple that you know that either you don't think should be together or that someone you know thinks shouldn't be together? Maybe you even thought it at one point but changed your mind or learned to accept the inevitable or whatever. But regardless, we all have them. I know I have plenty and I know that there are plenty of people who don't understand why I am with Scott. I told him this, gently, as I was explaining this theory and his response is "fuck 'em."

Truth is, you've got to agree with him. Once you choose to walk down that relationship path with someone, you've got to decide for yourself what and who is right for you. YOU are the only one who knows why you are there and why he is there and so on. There's always going to be someone who doesn't "approve", who doesn't get it. Who doesn't feel as enthusiastically as you do. It's just that simple. But, what're you gonna do? Poll the audience first before deciding who to date? Most likely, the audience is not going to pick someone who does it for you.

The other thing is that the level of disapproval does seem to be in line with how far away from a cookie cutter the party in question is. But, it doesn't really matter. The guy could be Superman, the woman could be Wonder Woman -- there is someone in your circle of friends right now who doesn't think it's right. "Why do they always have to be fighting crime? What about the criminals -- they need to work too. And they're always messing up our reservations because they have to fly off to save the world. What -- the world is more important than happy hour?"

Seriously. I know this because I've been on both sides of it. Not that I've ever dated Superman (just someone that thinks he is) , but you know what I mean. I think that's when you know you've taken the leap of faith -- you throw the audience's opinion out the window and decide to just trust your own. Truth is, I've done it before and had it go horribly awry, so I am not advocating that taking the leap means it's the right leap. But, you gotta keep trusting because otherwise -- what is the point?

kisses to all -- will try to share some Bermuda stories next time... We're pretty much writing without Scott in the background these days too. Turns out the 2/16/04 blog This is Dedicated to the one I love is the one where I "jumped the shark." He was never going to enjoy it as much after that, so he has stopped reading.

Let's talk shit about him! ;-)

-HP